Resolution
by maximuso
Summary: No great story is complete without an ending. This is my vision on the outcome of the Winter War. To be told through many points of view, many pairings, time warping and dramas galore. M just in case.
1. Stunning Developments

Title: Resolution

No great story is complete without an ending. This is my vision on the outcome of the Winter War. To be told through many points of view, many pairings, time warping and fireworks.

Chapter 1: Stunning Developments

A/N: Hey! This is my first large-scale fan fic, and I will make it as big as possible. There's going to be a lot POV's, so stay with me, because it is not orientated towards one character or pairing. I'll try to cover almost everyone, anyone I don't, submit a review in a later chapter, and I will add in, if possible.

Read and review, please. Your time and effort are sincerely appreciated. Remember, constructive crit, not 'flames', whatever they are. SPOILER ALERT!!! (Note the triple-exclamation mark; the sure sign of a madman)

Also, I don't own Bleach, or any of its' affiliates. The honour of that goes to a Mr Tite, otherwise known as Kubo T.

* * *

What happened in the Winter War will go down in history as the most stunning set of scientific phenomena of the era. Mayuri knew that the events unfolding before him would make most Soul Society scientists wet their lab coats in excitement (he did not, for he was an exceptional scientist, by his own admitting. Also, Haori are quite expensive). He could only thank gods he didn't believe in that he made it back in time for the 'big bang' that would commence the odd reactions and behaviours of the Wars' climax.

Not Mayuri, Kisuke, nor the recently-deceased Aizen could have possibly known the effects of the critical Hougyoku finally overloading. After the termination of its main source of power – Aizen, who was increasing his own power through its use – had it tried to feed off of the remaining combatants, the closest available supply? He could send a research team down the line of reiatsu leeching properties of various rare devices, but Mayuri knew he was correct in his summation. He always was.

In its critical state, it then had to release the reiatsu the only way available; a deafening soundwave, and an outburst of time-distorting reiatsu, radiated in a perfect sphere of slow, inviting, ethereal blue light, if Mayuri were to use such a dirty, unspecific term. Nearly every remaining... being (the best word available) had been outside the radius of enveloping light. Those inside suffered no wound, although for the occupants, injuries might have been less problematic.

The occupants, Ichigo Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki, Orihime Inoue, Uryū Ishida and Yachiru Kusajishi, were strangely effected, and if the Chief Researcher of the SRI were to guess (a rare occurrence), he would say that the outward reiatsu flow sped up the flow of the original reiatsu in the subjects. Those behind the hastily drawn three point shield, Inoue and Kurosaki, were less affected, aging only four years. This is relative to the century felt by those receiving the Hougyokus' emissions. For two full Shinigami, the visible age difference was barely noticeable, aging them around five and ten years, for Kuchiki and Kusajishi respectively. However, for a Quincy, a near tragedy occurred.

Uryū Ishida, fully exposed to the erosive effects of the aging process of humans, was found as the mist cleared at the startling age of one-hundred-and-twenty.

In a later investigation, Kurotsuchi would find it was the Quincies ability to channel reiatsu and whatnot that kept him on a makeshift life-support system. As all his remaining energy left him, it was Inoue that was running to his side. Her rejection ability had grown strong, and even as exhausted as she was, she bought enough time for the brilliant medical unit, under Unohana, to transfer the aged Quincy to the ER.

At this point in time, the Hougyoku, exhausted of spiritual energy, fell from its' invisible pedestal, the forces keeping it suspended having been expended, and shatters into exactly as many pieces as there were combatants. It would appear that Urahara did not design the powerful relic for durability.

The strange events came to an end, and the third person to overcome the mesmerising effects of the last ten minutes was Isane, who saw that her captain was currently preoccupied, and ordered her division to work. The medics went about collecting and administering to the injured. Thanks to their medical expertise, not a single Soul Reaper perished, although there were a few close calls. As Mayuri reviewed the broken battlefield, he did a quick calculation of the odds of not just winning, but nearly completely destroying the enemy, without losing any allies in the process. Although not totally incalculable (a word which didn't exist for such a man), the probability was against the outcome, and _quite heavily_. It was nearly enough to make a totally reasonable man run through Rukongai screaming 'there is a god, and he likes us! He likes us a lot!'

"Yeah, right" came the Research divisions unusually colloquial, verbose and sudden response. To this, his assistant found some mild surprise, and succeeded in not showing it one bit.

"Excuse me, sir?" Nemu questioned, instinctually believing there was some miscommunication on her part.

Her father remembered himself, withdrew himself from his thoughts, and issued some of his usually orders; "Lieutenant, release some surveillance bacteria, gather radiation data on the blast radius, and collect all pieces of the Hougyoku. Now" The information she obtained would come in handy for his research teams to nibble away at, and Nemu was quite accurate and reliable in her ability to obtain useful and revealing information.

She rapidly departed from him, with her usual burst of flash steps. As his sole daughter left, Mayuri reflected further, but this time on said daughter. While she was a capable and powerful vice-captain, she also had a firm grasp of the scientific process, was obedient, respectful, and deceptively intelligent. She hid her mental power like she did her emotions, but beneath her respectful, depressed demeanour, Mayuri could nearly see the figurative (and not so figurative) cogs turning, and the emotions that boiled underneath, never to be physically embodied in action.

One day, she would leave his side – he knew this because he was almost subconsciously trying to drive her away – and he would need to fill the well trained, highly capable gap that she would leave. Until then, he could only continue to train, teach, upgrade and abuse his nigh-perfect creation.

That, and send her out on coffee runs.

* * *

A/N: In this first chapter, I'm trying to not give too much away about anything that happened before the 'Big Bang', but I will tell you everything in later chapters.

I hope you liked it. I know the lack of information may be annoying, but this is essential to the mysterious pace of the story.

I'm not really sure what I am doing with the Japanese words, so I will probably just use things randomly, however I feel suites the style. If you don't like what I'm doing, give me some feedback.

Next Chapter is 'Coffee and Clouds'.


	2. Coffee and Clouds

A/N: I do not own Bleach, but I do clean the house regularly.

Chapter 2: Coffee and Clouds

A cool breeze. A blue sky, freckled with clouds. Sakura trees, greeting the wandering eyes with their long, delicate branches, waving in the winds, shedding their bounteous pink treasures for them to fly off to their unknown destinations around the Seireitei. These images met Isane while she drank her morning coffee, the warmth of the liquid energy flowing into her, emptying the trashy thoughts of two days in the ER, filling her mind with tranquillity, and feelings not felt since the Winter Wars' climactic end.

Isane looked skywards again through one of the open windows, maybe searching for some divine intervention, some mystic being to whisk her away to a field of pillows, where she could lay her weary head to rest, and refresh her drained body in the confines of the clo-

"Help! Code blue, or something! I need help in here!"

Dropping her cup into the street below, and rushing to the sound of the frantic voice in the 104th room in the 4th divisions med unit, Isanes' thoughts turned immediately towards the possibilities of who it might be. The voice, high pitched and anxious as all hell, was hard to remember, like she hadn't had much time with him. The patients in the hospital were few, but it was her job as vice-captain to remember them all, and thanks to the hours attending to them as Unohana treated the Quincy, she could state their names, injuries and condition, like she had been taught by her teacher. She went through them one by one.

Ok, first off, there was Kenpachi, who had no choice but to accept medical treatment, because he was unconscious due to a quite violent bash to the head, and had suffered some blood-loss caused by Ex-Captain Tousen. He had woken up, and had rejected all medical treatment, because 'he's just indestructible', as his division would protest.

Yama-ji had obtained yet another scar from his battle with Aizen, who had used his shikai to trick the head-captain. He was not critical, but being a man of such age, it is always a wise move to keep an eye on him. He had also strained his back again, which was understandable. Shunsui had kept the sleeping man company until he had, after a few of his regular sakes, fallen from the second floor window. Usually not much of a problem for a man of his abilities, the sake and the fall had opened up one of the near-misses (that is, it nearly missed) received from the Primera Espada, Starrk, and he now had the next room over all to himself. This nearly brought a smile to the old mans face.

Ishida was in the special care room, where Ms Inoue was working on reversing the time-dilation caused by the Hougyoku, where Unohana kept watch. Apparently, there were some other major injuries suffered by the Quincy, but what was more important was the whole 'I am my own grampa' thing, as Ikakku had stated. He always was blunt.

Hitsugaya had suffered a... well placed kick from the Tricera Espada (rumour had it that it was actually from one of the Visorred) and had been in a great deal of pain. He was currently out like a light. Condition; stable, sleeping and cute. Even though he is a captain, the 10ths' captain was still young and as adorable as a plush doll.

There were only two others that Isane could think of, running at near-shunpo speed.

Captain Soi Fon. Disorder: hasty amputation of left upper appendage, not recovered due to circumstances. Condition: Patient is pale, suffering loss of blood which was stopped on the battlefield, now with a new wrapping on the area. Patient is in a stable comatose condition. If, and when, the patient regains conciousnous, ask if they would prefer a prosthetic limb, no more treatment, or a third option, made available by request of Orihime Inoue. Patients stats are getting healthier.

Oh, and Ukitake needed a refill on his prescription. But was there someone else who would need her attention? As far as she knew, the vice captains had been healed through Kido quite rapidly, and those affected by the... incident, were in no danger, so who was it?

As she rounded the corner, she came face-to-face with the hero of the moment, one Ichigo Kurosaki. His face a mask of horror, his body rigid and his fists clenched. He stood, blocking the doorway, trying to explain the symptoms of the not-yet-visible patient to the immobilised doctor.

"Mr Kurosaki, please get out of the way!" It might have been a bit mean to yell at the agitated substitute shinigami, but she needed to treat the person in need, and to do that, he had to move.

"...breathing rapidly and... what? Oh, yeah." He seemed to collect himself mentally for half a second, then took a step to the right of the doorframe, which was actually where the door was situated, and because of his moderate-to-bad posture, his forehead was the first to make this intriguing discovery. However, there was not much time for him to contemplate this, because the rest of him had passed out on the floor before the brain behind the forehead could make any observations on the shocking sturdiness of Soul Society doors.

Isane stepped over the unconscious hero, and proceeded to treat the cause of the ruckus; a deep wound made by steel that crossed over the multiple lacerations of a hastily avoided kido spell. Because of the underlying spell damaged left by Aizen, every few hours the larger wound would open up again. The blood around the bed and that dripping from the hands of the desperate Kurosaki was a testament to Aizen Sousukes' ability to inflict long-lasting pain and suffering.

If anybody in the Winter War would say that they would rather go three rounds with Yami-Ji than go through what that other person had, than 'that other person' was undoubtedly Rukia Kuchiki.

As the bleeding stepped up a notch, the Vice-Captain of the medical division called for help. Coming to her aid was Hanatarou Yamada. After initially assuming that the help was for Mr Kurosaki, he stepped over the limp figure to apply pressure to his friends' abdomen.

Through countless years experience, Isane could tell, from the increasing time between the bleeding periods, that the kido was wearing off, and once the spells power was at a certain point, it would allow the wound to heal. Nevertheless, she felt that this was all putting a lot of stress on the unranked shinigamis' body. So much blood loss was not good for such a small girl.

"Hanatarou, how much blood is left in the storehouse?" Not expecting such a great answer, she could still hope for 'next to full'.

"Mostly empty, ma'am. The vice-captains needed some, and so did Captain Soi Fon." _Damn._

"Have we got any O-type left?" There was not a worse blood type to be than universal donor, but, hell, you could only hope.

"Right out." _Double damn_.

"Hey."

The voice of Ichigo Kurosaki called from across the floor, reaching up to the medics, hard at work."That's universal donor, right? My dad taught me blood types when I was really young, and made a point that if he was in a crash, I would be his first port of call. Does that mean she can take my blood?"

The realisation hit Isane hard. She had her own regenerative blood bank just lying in the doorway. She done a quick calculation of how fast a teenager could produce blood, and worked out that the amount she needed (the safe amount, of course,) he would be able to give her.

"Mr Kurosaki, are you averse to needles?"

Before he could give a response, he was picked up, thrown in a chair next to the bed, and felt a little sting in his right arm. He looked at his punctured limb, and followed the tube to a large plastic bag, slowly filling with crimson liquid. _I've seen dad work in the clinic, but hell, that was fast!_

"Sorry about that, it's just that we may be needing that very soon" came Isanes' rushed response. Already she had her hands over Hanatarous, working kido to supplement his. He was, in fact, quite competent when it was in a field he was trained in.

She turned her thoughts back to her patient. She was unconscious still, and the blood flow seemed to be stopping. She had been unconscious for the last two days, and had only moved in the fits of pain that coincided with the bleeding. However, these fits were only as temporary as the cycles, which were starting to decrease in magnitude, duration and frequency. However, without the blood supply from Ichigo, she would just die anyway.

Noticing the bleeding finally stop, she handed Hanatarou some fresh bandages, to stop infection seeping into Rukia stomach. As he rewrapped the wound, Isane washed her hands and removed the needle from Ichigo, who was slightly paler.

"Mr Kurosaki, if she starts bleeding again, can I ask you to put pressure on spot where she bleeds from, and to call for help again? If you press this button here, our fourth and fifth seat will respond."

"Sure. No problem" came the slightly uncertain response. Whether it was from the blood loss, or seeing a friend in this state, Ichigo seemed less fiery than the stories from Renji would suggest.

She had to ask. Duty of care made her, although in her case, it was duty of caring too much.

"Hey, are you all right?"

"Hmm? Oh. Uh, yeah, I'm fine." He was near catatonic, barely responding to questions, and was much less co-ordinated.

Hanatarou chose that moment to finish the new bandages. "Finished, ma'am."

"Alright. There doesn't seem to be anything else we can do here. Let's go."

She looked over at the fatigued substitute-shinigami, and had to wonder how close their friendship was. She had heard vaguely that he had gained his powers by one of the ancient Shinigami rites, where they give their power to another. She had given him power and changed his world. Now he would watch over her, giving his life as she had given hers. It wasn't the same thing, but he would help her any way he could.

However, every teenage boy (a matter up for debate, after current events) needs his sleep. The saviour of the shinigami had fallen asleep, and in a somewhat awkward position. Isane noticed, as she left the room, that instead of resting his eyes with his head in his hands and his elbow on the chair, as he no doubt intended, he rested his head with his brow on the bed, and his arm swinging between the bed and his body. It didn't seem all that comfortable, but he hadn't awoken from the action of slamming his head into the (apparently soft) springy mattress.

He did deserve the rest, with what happened in the Winter War and everything. He had refused the accommodation offered to him by most of Seireitei, however, at least until the time which his friends had recovered. He had been moving back and forth between this room and Uryū Ishidas'room, which were mercifully placed opposite a hallway, and had not visited anywhere not on the direct line between them, omitting the toilet breaks and check-ups he received from Unohana. Renji had brought him food and Chad, with an exhausted Orihime, had given him company.

Even though Ichigo had given great portions of his attention both to the reverse-aging Uryū and the mortally wounded Rukia, it was clear who was getting more Kurosaki-time, and it wasn't the middle-aged teenager.

Apparently, something had happened in Hueco Mundo which made Ichigo feel guilty for his friends injuries. The aging process made it extremely difficult to tell what those injuries were, so Isane could not see further into the matter, but she felt questions should be asked. The guilt he felt, however, didn't stop him from devoting most of his time to Ms Kuchiki. Why did Ichigo have to be so difficult to read?

Isanes' mind slipped from the train of thought, derailed by calls for help from the room across the hall. She ran from the room to the next one, to find her mentor standing over the Quincy, kido not stopping the bleeding from where his hand should be. The clean cut was, until now, not a problem, seeing that Quincies had a natural ability to hold off their blood-flow. However, Uryū was not awake, asleep from the exhaustion this exertion had caused over the last two days, which left Unohana and Isane trying to stop said blood-flow from outside an event-rejection bubble. It was very difficult to give aid to a man, changing before their very eyes, without touching him, but Retsu was not so easily dissuaded from giving care to a patient.

Isane knew the drill; check the level of healing Kido currently in use by the other doctor, and supplement it with your own. She knew that Unohana was a talented physician, but when she felt the energies that her mentor was expelling, she let out a audible gasp, although the only occupants of the room were either too busy or too unconscious to notice. She then poured herself in an attempt to assist her tutor.

* * *

_Hours later..._

It had been close. Way close. Way too close. Way too damn close. Waaaaayy too bloody close. (Get on with it!) Needless to say, it had been close (...)

Looking back to Ishida, who was now awake, and whose gaze was intermittently shifting between a very interesting blank grey roof and Ms Inoue, Isane wondered if they shared anything aswell. When he had woken up, he could not thank the 'most-generous and talented ladies' enough. Unohana had put it down to drug fever. He seemed a bit better now, what with returning to his own age, and having Orihime watch over him. She was asleep now, exhausted as only Isane knew.

_Damn, I'm tired_, she thought. _How long have I been awake again? Was it Monday or Sunday? Or Tuesday?_ It is quite probable that stress and sleep-deprivation were the cause of the following outburst;

"Geez, what does a girl have to do to get some sleep around here?" She practically shouted. This sudden cry for sleep had gotten a chuckle out of the feverish boy, although, unwittingly, she failed to remember her captain was right behind her. Another effect of sleep-deprivation?

Her somewhat rhetorical question was answered; "A whip-round of East-wing, and we're done for the night". Unohana had no cruelty in her soul. That gap was filled with irony.

Isane, awake enough to blush, but not awake enough to apologise, departed with but a moment's hesitation, long enough for Retsu catch the red flush across her vice-captains cheeks. Then she was gone. _Strange girl_...

Retsu looked across the hallway to the room inhabited by the young Kuchiki lady. There were two things her mind picked-up right away: the noticeable presence of Mr Kurosaki, and the more noticeable gap left by the Kuchiki lord. When would he finally come to the hospital to visit his sister? She could use another set of eyes watching the gal, apart from those red, baggy ones that Kurosaki belonged to. The eyes that were aged three years past their birth-date.

_So strange, _she mused, _how the physical age of the young ones was changed, while not damaging them at all. This surely hasn't happened before in SS history. It affects Shinigami and humans differently. It doesn't speed up real time, or Rukia would have bled out. It was caused by the Hougyoku, which was suspended high in the air. Mayuri will have a field day._

As the most feared Shinigami (a strange statistical anomaly, but anyone outside the 4th lives in fear of a physical examination from the way-too polite captain) walked towards the tea room, she counted the blessings she had; those who had escaped her care. There weren't many notable people she hadn't seen in the last two/three days (what day was it again?), as she had even seen the elusive Goddess of Flash visiting her various old friends. Even some of the visored, banished a century ago, were in her care. But where was Kuchiki Byakuya-taicho? Didn't he know the Hisana needed him?

She mentally corrected herself; the late Hisana, _bless her soul_, was long gone, and the visibly older Rukia was now a splitting image of her sister.

...

..._Oh_.

Her scattered mind had finally found this realisation that kept Byakuya from visiting his sister, but, arriving at the tea room, the thought was lost in the scent of coffee and herbs. Hanatarou was barely awake on a lounge, nursing his sore head.

"Are you alright, Hanatarou?" He seemed slightly pained and irritated, something not usually shown by the timid boy.

"Oh, hello, ma'am!" Her presence seemed to cheer him up, but he returned to the matter currently lodged deep in his hair. "Yes ma'am, I'm ok. It's just that when I was on my break, sitting in the courtyard, someone screamed for help, I stood up, and then I was his on the head by a hot cup off coffee! I was trying to find the mean person responsible when I had to run off to help Ichigo and Rukia."

At this point, Isane, who had finished her rounds, and was just enjoying a relaxing herbal tea, woke up to the fifth seats story (a promotion had been in order), and let out a spray of said tea. In Hanatarous direction.

"AHH, IT BURNS! OW, OW, OW OW OW OW! Argh... Actually thats, kinda nice. Like a hot shower. Only faster. And makes you smell like grass." The exhausted, smelly and (somehow) relaxed Shinigami then, instead of scorning the second seat for being a meany, chose to yawn, stretch, curl-up on the lounge, and fall fast asleep.

Captain and Vice-Captain exchanged dumbfounded looks. Unohana won by rarity.

Seeing as it had been a long couple of days, the most worn-out captain in the Seireitei felt that they all needed their rest. "Isane, I think we can honestly say that we won't be needed for tomorrow. See you Monday?" To this, the younger of the two nodded, reluctantly. She would need her beauty sleep.

"Well, would you like an escort home? Everyone who felt it necessary to celebrate the departure of the 'false captain' with alcohol, dancing and more alcohol is doing so, and a nice, young, seemingly defenceless _attractive _girl may be forced to take action to deter the male part of this celebration" She did mean the bit about Isane being attractive, and had gotten the blush to go with it, but she had also meant the bit about self-defence. The average Shinigami male is a stubborn, pervish idiot when drunk.

"It is appreciated, but no. I think I might just sleep here. Eh, just in case."

Unohana caught the double meaning of that statement. There may be emergencies where an experienced hand is needed. If not, Isane always had a young, cute, mildly-concussed medic to keep her company. (Did I mention he smelt of jasmine tea? If you look at the box on some Jasmine Tea, I think it includes a 'Beware: may cause drowsiness' warning)

Turning to go, the captain reviewed the past two/three/seven days (time is damn elusive, especially if the batteries in your watch are broken). There had been no casualties, and all the 'mortal injuries' that the pessimistic third seat had proclaimed were, indeed, mortal injuries, were actually healing up quite well. The Quincy, the Assassin and the Dancer were all in stable conditions, despite previous appearances of near-fatality. Events had been exceptionally favourable to the Shinigami and its' 'affiliates'. She did realise that most of this was made possible by the work of Isane, who was turning out to be a knowledgeable healer. Surely, Rukia wouldn't have survived the night if not for her attention, while the Chief of Medicine was preoccupied with other matters. She had earned some shut eye.

As if sensing the meditations of her captain, disappearing around a far-away corner, Isane joined her subordinate on the couch.

He was fast asleep (and from the light snoring, dead to the world), and as she curled up her legs on the suddenly very comfortable lounge, she found herself manoeuver his head onto her lap. There was a faint murmur of "No sauce, tonight", as she had undoubtedly disturbed his coma, and Hanatorou rolled over, his head moving from Isanes' hard upper knee to a much more soft pillow; her upper thigh.

Isane privately blushed, but decided the junior was probably to bashful to put his head there while he was awake, even if it was a medical emergency. Although, the relative proximity to her... to her, wasn't such a bad feeling. She was shy as well, and hadn't had any real relationship with a guy, so these feelings, as she watched him sleep, combing his hair, were strange and new to the young Shinigami. And it wasn't as if Hana was a bad guy. He was, in fact, a good guy. Who Isane could trust. Who had similar interests to her. Who was around her age (give or take a few dacade). Who had -

Who had a piece of porcelain stuck in his head.

Using her careful, surgeons' hands, she lifted the shard out of his ebony hair. She held it up to a candle on the table next to the lounge, and could barely make out the inscription inked on it, but still, she read, and a second wave of realisation struck her, confirming her earlier suspicions. It read:

Propert--  
Isane K--

_Oops._

* * *

A/N: Hey guys/gals/fanfiction reading gorillas, how did you like this one? I'm sorry to stop the development of Isanes thoughts a bit soon, but I'm trying to end each chapter with a bit of humour. Sorry if it was a bit anti-climactic, but I like it that way. Feel free to R&R.

By the way, I decided to call Rukia the Dancer for a reason. And in this, I've made Isane a bit stronger, but only while she is in her element.

Next up; the first Ichigo POV chapter! Yayness! (Yayness? Yep, he's lost it) Plus; a lords' lament...


	3. UnForestalled Change

A/N: Hi, everybody! (Hi, Dr Nick!)  
Rukia: "I do hope that this scene isn't to OOC for Ichi, I was so anxious while the boys were writing it, but now I'm glad!"  
(Unohana: "At least our scene was committed".  
Mayuri: "At least our scene wasn't just a string of puberty jokes".  
Byakuya: "Get on with it!"  
Ichigo: "Get on with it!"  
11th Division: "Get on with it!")  
Rukia: "I _am _enjoying this scene!"  
(Yama-ji: "_Get on with it_!")

Right. OK. Sorry. Apologies go to Matt Groening, the Python boys, and Kubo Tite, who owns this series (but you already knew that), and a host of other people who I might have offended.

This chapter is 'Un-Forestalled Change". Enjoy, you Mexican-llama-lovers, you.

* * *

It was four days since the climax of the Winter War, and midnight had passed relatively quietly. However, this was the last thing that a certain ginger-haired hero would want on a sleepless night. Truth be told, he wasn't tired, but this could have been because he was sleeping sporadically, whenever he had the urge. This was no problem, because the (thankfully) motionless figure he watched over definitely wasn't going to disappear on him, and he had no other engagements.

So this left Ichigo Kurosaki to sit in a chair beside Kuchiki Rukia, watch the festivities from a window, and, now that the partiers were long hung-over, contemplate the meaning of life, the universe and change. Our hero may have gotten much further if he could momentarily forget the whole 'stubble' business and move on to thoughts existential importance.

Fat chance.

_'Damn it, I'm going to have to shave nearly every second day!'_ He stopped to examine his armpits, diving in with his nose, and recoiling from shock._ 'And I smell terrible! Not only do I have to shave like clockwork, if dads' 'example' is anything to go by, but now body odour? Is just a few more years of puberty too much to ask for? Why does the universe hate me so...'_

He cut himself short as the investigation of an itch on his upper body found something. He pulled on his collar, and looked down-

'_CHEST HAIR?! COME ON!'_

This is the point where the frustrated young man found himself wondering; if all this has changed, what else can have changed? He thought the best place to carry out a deeper probe into the matter, would be to try the bathroom. Luckily, Rukia was fortunate enough to have an expansive room, with an equally large bathroom, that even had a full length mirror.

Making use of this mirrors size, Ichigo removed the top half of his robes. The first thing he noticed was the stubble. Instead of the nearly invisible hairs that had once been sole custodians of the land stretching north of his usual scowl, it seems thick, black, European hairs had taken the lands of the Great Upper Lip through an act of 'Terra Nullius' and had found it acceptable to put the hair-boriginals to work in the expanse between the Northern Eyebrow Divide. _If there is a god, he hates me._

Continuing downwards, he noted the hairs on his chest, on the top of his stomach, and what use to be a snail trail, which had expanded into a highway for upbeat woodland creatures. In terms of 'stubble settlers', it seems they had found the Great Southern Land. The highway continued lower, and turned into a Multi-Storey Parking Lot, for those wishing to spend the day at...

_Hold on..._

Ichigo blushed. It appeared that the gods didn't hate him too much. Or they had a strange sense of humour.

It then came upon Kurosaki to remember a bit of philosophy that Keigo believed with all his heart.

"Trust me, ladies. Size matters!"

Usually it earned Keigo a black eye, or a footprint for his face. But Ichigo was now travelling down a dirty road not usually taken by him. He was 'driven' back to reality, however, when his ears picked up on a low moan emanating from behind the door.

Dropping in and out every few seconds, the sound could be likened to that of a wolf, after the wolf has had its' foot caught in a bear trap for a full day. The sound was primal, pained, sad, lonely, and resounded in your head. This sound was human, though; Ichigo was sure no animal could make this kind of sound. This is the sound of the Lonely, the trapped soul desperate for escape. It longed for you to draw near, and you longed to draw nearer to it.

The compulsion that curiosity had created was pressing buttons in Ichigos' mind, and it was his better nature that spoke to him; '_What is this noise coming from? Should I help it?' _Such were the first thoughts he had, and before he knew it, he was acting upon those thoughts, fully dressed (was that a sigh I heard?), with a hand already on the handle. He began sliding back the door, inch by inch, creating an increasing large section of the room that he could see.

What he saw, however, was no monster. By the light of the midnight moon, he could barely make out the shape, legs tangled in sheets, lying on her side, on the ground, one arm holding a bedpost behind her back, the other hugging a pillow to her chest tightly, the in-and-out moan was coming from between the barely-parted lips of Rukia Kuchiki.

Ichigo stood in the doorway, frozen, and watched her. As his eyes adjusted to the rooms' minute amount of light, he could see her stomach slowly retract as the sound crescendo-ed, and faded away. She breathed in through her teeth, and with a creased brow. She turned onto her back, further twisting the sheets, and the sound started again.

Ichigos' protective nature kicked in; _'Is she awake?' _he thought_, 'Is she in pain?' _He tried desperately to find a way to check his friends condition. _'Maybe I should wake her? No, I should let her rest. And if I wake her, the pain she's in will just get worse. But if I don't wake her, I can't help her. Damnit! What should I do?'_

Ichigos indecision turned to inaction, which turned to startled surprise, as the object of his thoughts woke up. Her eyes quickly widened, her fists tightened, her body convulsed, only once, her back arched, and her legs rolled her onto her side. Her eyes settled on a shadow watching her, and she called to it; "NII-SAMA!"

The indistinguishable shape moved to her and knelt down by her side. "I'm here, Rukia, it's ok," came the hushing response. The smaller Soul Reaper reached out, finding a hand. "I'm sorry, brother!"

"Rukia, I-

She cut him off. "Please, brother, forgive me!" Tears rolled from the sides of the petite girls face. Her voice was laboured, as if speech was taking energy from her, and it was slow, deliberate, staccato, suggesting that if she didn't give each syllable her full attention, the strain on her diaphragm would tear apart her abdomen. She was shaking, sweating, apparently delirious and oblivious to her position on the floor. But there she lay, begging, praying for the forgiveness of the man before her.

The pause was broken; "What am I to forgive you for? I don't remember anything you should-

Again, she cut him off. "There are many things that I should be sorry for! You saved me from Aizen, even though you were already wounded, and wounded again in the process! And you've been saving me ever since! The Bounto! The Espada! The Zanpakuto! The Traitors! You fended them off while I failed in my duties! And what do you get from protecting me from the repercussions? Stabbed! Again and again and again and again and AGAIN and AGAIN AND _AGAIN_! I'M SORRY!" Rukia reached the climax of her hysteria, breaking down, sobbing, crying, pleading, curling her legs into her chest and squeezing the hand she held onto, for fear of losing it.

After half a minute, and her weeping had died down, she continued. "I'm sorry. I should have been strong. I should have been stronger. I should have been strong enough so you don't have to fight my battles for me. I'm sorry."

The man held in her embrace stated simply, in a sombre tone, "If that is what you think, then I should be sorry, not you, nee-san. I should be asking your forgiveness."

This calmed the small Kuchiki considerably. She softened her tense hold on his hand, and, exhausted by the emotional display, returned to her slumber, much more peaceful than the last.

But not before her eyes finally adjusted, and she caught the slightest glimpse, just in that split-second between the two lands of Reality and Dreams, a hint of orange, from the head of the figure watching over her...

Deciding she was asleep, Ichigo picked up his friend, placing her back in her bed, her light frame easily lifted, and untangled the sheets, gently replacing them. Ichigo stepped back, and cast his eyes onto her sleeping form, then to his hand, which had retained marks from her strong grip.

_'She seemed delirious', _he thought, '_but did she know it was me?'_

Quandaries aside, Ichigo had a feeling that his friend would sleep much better tonight, when-

"That was a nice thing you just did for her, you know."

The casual comment came as a surprise (so much so that Yoruichi Shihoiuns. introduction was cut short), and Ichigo turned to face the empty air. Looking down for the small, feline figure of the seconds squads former captain, to whom which the male voice sometimes belonged to, he found only a patch of darkness in the pitch-black room, where two cat eyes hung of their own devising. It was to them he directed his question;

"Oi. What are you doing 'round here at this time of night?"

"I'm a light sleeper." Yoruichi was highly evasive, even in her responses. This one told Ichigo nothing at all. "I'm sure Rukia will feel much safer knowing her 'brother' is watching over her. She will sleep all the better for it." Pride was shining through from the cats' tone, even at this hour. "It is very commenda-

"Yeah, yeah," interrupted Ichigo, shrugging off the heartfelt comments like warm, fuzzy, fur coats. He changed the subject quickly. "I need to know where the hell Byakuya is."

The eyes grew an inch rounder, suggesting mild surprise. "Looking for a rematch? Honestly, Ichigo, I never knew you could hold such a grudge."

"What? No, it's nothing like that. It's just she loves her brother, so with him around, she might heal a bit quicker. He might be able to help her more than I can."

The cat eyes, which had excellent night vision, picked up on Ichigos' sombre tone. _You daft git, Ichigo. If a strong bond heals someone quickly, then the ideal person is in the room already_.

She didn't say this aloud, however, and settled for "Very well. I will find him in the morning. You just stay here," _lover boy,_ she inserted mentally.

The young man loosened up. "Arigato, Yoruichi. It would be greatly appreciated."

The eyes nodded (you know what he means). "You know, Ichigo, you've grown much more mature in the last few months. And not just physically..." She let the end of the sentence hang, suggestively.

A thought struck Ichigo. A scary thought. He asked the dreaded question. "Just how long have you been here?"

Ichigo could clearly see the Cheshire-cat grin and, before she left, she said, in her deep, male, suddenly very creepy voice; "_Long _enough to know that being friends with you could be very... _beneficial._"

The comment flew right over Ichigos' head, but before he could ask about it, she/he/it had disappeared. With her sudden departure (again, that was so quick as to be described properly by the author), Ichigo started to turn over the thought in his mind.

"A beneficial friend?" _Nope_.

_Benefits._

_Friends._

_Benefits and friends._

_Benefits with friends._

_Friends with benefits_

_I still don't see..._

The proverbial cog turned, the light turned on, the last brick was placed in Ichigos' thought pyramid.

Ichigo turned a particular shade of white.

/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\

A match is lit in a pitch black room.

There is not a single sound, save for the hiss protruding from the light source. The flame meets a scented candle, which slowly fills the air with just a hint of lavender. The brightness cutting through the dark is just enough for the observant eye to notice dozens of coloured, dusty candles, linked by cobweb-upon-cobweb. The candle lit is obviously chosen for two reasons; its' place at the centre of a table, amidst the other candles, and for its' proximity to two portraits.

A long, elegant hand withdraws and shakes out the match. It reaches out again, around the flames, this time for the larger portrait. This picture is faded, but retains its' image, consisting of two people, a man and woman, hands held, their arms locked in an eternal show of love. However, a few sprigs of ancient lilac, an offering reserved for the dead, shows that the bond that is hardest to break was ripped apart long ago.

The hand gently touches the cheek of the fair maiden, then makes the commute to the cheek of a another face. The similarities between the two are not hard to find. The owner was a slight deal younger than her counterpart, and the able mind quickly makes the connection of mother and daughter...

The hand touches the forehead of the younger, and, with no false pretences of success, attempts to remove a lock of hair from the owners face. Failing this, the hand returns to the hair of its' owner, and removes a strange hairpiece, allowing the long hair to tumble down into a pale face.

Kneeling in a position worn into the floor, praying for strength, guidance and to be released from the visage of his long-dead lover, Byakuya Kuchiki, the noble lord of the great Kuchiki family, the stoic captain of the 6th, a man known for his emotionless visage, was crying.

A solitary hour passes, and the single lit candle finds the end of its' wick. The flame is extinguished in a pool of its' own wax, and the man leaves the room, brushing away the tears, replacing the Hakama in its' perch, and putting his mask back on, where no one could see him change into Kuchiki Byakuya-sama.

Another minute passes since the lord left the forgotten room. A loose piece of wood slides back into place, and footsteps can be heard, accelerating along a hidden corridor. All that Yoruichi left behind were footprints and tears.

* * *

A/N: I know Rukia may seem a bit OOC in this chap, but she is in a great deal of pain, and is probably quite drugged up (A specialty of Unohanas).

Also, I wasn't sure whether to go with the ByaYoru or the ByaChiru, so I decided ByaYoru, but don't worry, I have plans for little miss Kusajishi...

However, if I get enough reviews wanting Byakuya and the Older Yachiru, it is not too late for me to swing the story back on its' original course! So say something before it's too late!


	4. Losing Sight of Him

G'day to all you koala lovers out there. I love a good Koala. Especially when they are nice and juicy. JOKES! This is another piece to the post-war puzzle. It involves a couple of my favourite characters. Twist ending here!

This fanfiction is based on Bleach, created by the high and mighty Kubo Tite. Long live the emporer!

BTW: I have forgotten to mention in my previous chapters that there are spoilers galore, although you won't know what the spoilers are unless you have read the manga/watched the anime.

So sit back with your favourite packet of roo, and enjoy 'Losing Sight of Him'.

* * *

The beautiful lieutenant of the 10th division, the 'reknown' Rangiku (for what, no-one tells me), stood on a grassy hill, speaking to her former lover, the former captain of the 3rd division, Gin Ichimaru.

Her words were few, and far in-between. He didn't respond. She just stood there, occasionally giving words that came from deep within herself to ears that she didn't even know were listening or not.

"Why?" she said, giving the words a full minute to sink in.

"Why did you leave?" Another minute passed between herself and him.

"It hurt me _so much_ when you left.

"What was so important, so essential, so amazing, that Aizen could offer to you that you had to run away from me to find it?

"We could have been happy without it.

"We would have been happy.

"We _were_ happy.

"But you always seemed happy, with that smile, Gin.

"'Ginning Gin'. Didn't you like it when I called you that?

"Maybe one day, you would have seen.

"Seen how happy we could have been, still.

"But it is too late.

"You went and screwed it _all_ up.

"For _him_. You didn't think about Soul Society, you didn't think about the 3rd division, you didn't think about...

"Were you just using me? Like every other guy who just wants some 'action'?

"I really thought you would have been different. I trusted you to be different.

"I thought 'He might really be The Guy'.

"But after years, and years, you left me.

"Just like everyone else.

"I think I hate you. I really do.

"No, I know it. I _hate _you, Gin. _I hate you. I HATE YOU._

"I HATE YOU!"

She fell to her knees, supporting herself with her arms. Tears, like a dam breaking, flooded from the closed eyes, down her cheeks, to meet at her soft chin, to fall, wetting the ground between her hands.

There she knelt for a long period. Her ex-lover made no move to stop her from crying. There was no way for him to do this. It was well beyond his control.

/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\

_Rangiku lay there, with a few of her fellow lieutenants. She had only woken up a few minutes ago. Tasting blood was the first thing she was aware of. A killer headache was second, followed closely by an awful pain coming from her chest._

_Quickly recalling that the injuries she retained were not from a great party, and her homicidal boobs weren't trying to suffocate her because she was lying on her back, she cautiously opened her eyes, and the smell of battle she vaguely remembered – blood, sweat, smoke and dust – had worsened 3 fold._

_Trying to find a point of reference for the fighting going on, she looked past the kido-barrier surrounding her and her friends, and could make out two semi-distinct figures._

_They were definitely shinigami. They both had soul-reaper-reiatsu, and the clash of blades could be heard. They flashed back and forth, shunpo-ing repeatedly, again and again. Clink, Clink, Clang, Crash._

_One of the figures pointed to the other. There was a shout, and lightning sprung forth from his fingers. As Matsumotos' eyes focused on the momentarily stationary figure, she caught a glimpse of nobility; Byakuya Kuchiki stood there, eyes on the prize, who was, who was..._

_Ichimaru?_

_Narrowly avoiding the flash of kido, Gin pointed his blade at Byakuya, who did the same. They each said a name, and their swords glow, as if a light from within shone brighter than the sun. There was near silence, apart from the battles occurring elsewhere, and the two glared each other down, one with an unemotional stare, the other with proverbial eyes._

_Suddenly, Gins' sword shot out, extending rapidly towards the noble. He dodged away, but his sword had already scattered. The petals swiftly moved towards Gin, who had turned his attention to Byakuya, swinging the giant blade at his dodging opponent._

_After what seemed to Matsumoto like a lifetime, Senbonzakura finally managed to engulf Gin. As she watched on, they left to reform upon the hilt of their master, and when she could see again, she could see..._

"_NO!"_

/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\

Calling out across what seemed an infinite expanse, a voice rose above the strong winds. It said, "Hey".

Matsumoto made no move either way, to escape or approach the sound. The voice was calming, pleasant, deep. There was no distress in any part of it, and Rangiku envied that. _So calm._

Footsteps approached her. There were not many before he was in front of her. A hand brought her chin upwards, giving her eyes a path to follow; they travelled up his arm, meeting a lieutenants' sash, a choker, and a tattooed, scarred face.

They stared into each others' eyes for a moment, just a moment, but this moment was enough for Hisagi to convey a message to Matsumoto; _I'm here for you._

The moment passed, and suddenly, she was in the comforting embrace of his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, sobbing into his arm, both kneeling in front of the ex-captain.

After a reasonable period of silent weeping, Hisagi helped the alluring femigami to her feet. He could understand her dilemma. Everyone who came to this spot came, more often than not, for the worst reason.

"Let's go, Rangiku," he guided the lieutenant away from the awful place, a hand on her shoulder, and one giving her a lifeline to the real world. He noted her eyes didn't leave the grassy hillside, until they had passed by the tumble-down gates. His thoughts turned to what the usual means Matsumoto had of overcoming grievances. _My liver is going to hate me for this one._

The 2nd seat lieutenants left the cemetery, not looking back to the two important headstones that had caused them both some complicated thoughts; on the left, the friend of Tousan, who Hisagi had never met, but knew that had changed his life in a _big_ way.

On the right, another captain, as the tattered haori indicated. An unnatural rock formation, newer than the others that littered the hillside, made of marble, indicates that six-feet below the tombstone is an empty casket, dedicated to the smiling memory of the former captain, the former lover, the former Gin Ichimaru.

* * *

A/N: Just so you know, I kind of left a loophole for Gin, if I want him later. But do you want him later? Talk to me! Also, this isn't the end of my 'HisagiMatsu' chapters, so stay tuned!

Next up... old man Yamamotos' slippers!


	5. Chappy Slippers?

Sorry it took so long, this chapter has been on boil for ages. I've just been so busy with my HSC, I had no chance to do anything. Anyway, here it is, my first Yamamoto chapter! (Hopefully the last! I suck writing for him!)

By the way, I don't own Bleach. Are you happy now? Hmm?

* * *

The Captain-Commander of the 13 Protection squads, the Master-Protector of the Kings realm, the founder of the Shinigami 'University', the president of Seireitei, the Head-Honcho of Soul Reapers, The Greatest Shinigami To Ever Live ('cuz the large mug on his desk so), Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryūsai, was currently wearing pink, fluffy, Chappy slippers.

Yamamoto, or Yama-ji-sama, as she had called him, had received them as a 'get-well-soon' gift from Orihime, the ryoka girl. She looked... somewhat... different, when she visited him with the gifts she had purchased for all of Shinigami-and-otherwise that were staying in Seireitei. She had thanked him for saving her town, and presented to him the furry shoes as a token of appreciation, so that he may wear them when he left the 4ths' hospital. If he ever had the chance to leave- Unohana would always _insist_ he stay (a man of his age should take his time recovering), and if he tried to leave, she would Sheppard him back to his room, and had managed to fit in 'Doctors Orders' somewhere, so that resistance was, indeed, futile.

Anyway, after he had gracefully accepted the gift, as was his obligation, she had left to distribute the remaining gifts. Initially, he had thrown them in a pile of gifts from other well-wishers. So far, he had accumulated:

Herbal Tea from Retsu, as was her fashion,  
Assorted candies from Ukitake, as was his (from one Shiro to another),  
Sake from Shunsui – _that bastard knows I prefer Scotch. Damn tease,  
_A rare bonsai from Byakuya (one only a Kuchiki could afford),  
A defibrillator from Mayuri (confidence instilling),  
A new braid from Hitsugaya, although apparently with help from Matsumoto, if the pink-based colour theme was any indicator, (wasn't Hitsugaya pretty banged up as well?), and  
A warm, fur coat. A very _familiar_ coat. From Komamura...

Most of these would never be used for their intended purpose. He sent the candies to Hitsugaya, the Sake to Matsumoto and the defibrillator to Retsu (who uses it mainly for self defence against free-spirited male shinigami party-goers). He made certain the Komamura got his coat back.

One morning, after waking up and mentally preparing for the task of rebuilding the ranks of the Gotei 13, finding 3 fully capable captains, and facing his lieutenants attempt at French toast (Rules for 1st Division: Be respectful, loyal, work diligently, and learn to cook. Sustenance is as important as kidou. Eggs go sunny-side up), he began to climb out of his modest bed, and found his feet in the cozy caress of... two impaled rabbits?

_Have I been sleepwalking again?_

On the contrary, it had been the ryoka girls gift, and since that glorious moment on, they had become his second most treasured gift- he did have a Miyagi complex, so the bonsai had became the centre-piece of his collection – and he had nearly worn the rabbit-shoes to work without remembering to take them off on several occasions already. Although no-one would dare mention it, it would still be quite embarrassing.

As he sat behind the desk in his private workspace, in his divisions office, in his city, he considered possible candidates for captaincy, loathed the world that did not see slippers as appropriate work-wear, and concentrated on the matter at hand.

Using the nominations he received and some memorable names, which were rather memorable, considering his age, he wrote a list...

* * *

_Hours later..._

* * *

To tell the truth, there may have been a few too many applications in the list. The old man had used up his entire day just crossing names off. Not including lunch. Or his nap. Naps.

Many of these had been sent in just to get someone off someone else's back while complimenting the nominee. Only a few of these could be seen as captain material. Others were definitely a handful or had the ability to forge their captains signature.

After the whole day, he had settled on just a few select names. This was normally not a problem; in the case of these individuals, there may have been a few... flaws that would have to be ironed out. If you wanted to be a slight bit more specific, you might point out that only one had bankai, and he definitely would have a bit of trouble adjusting to the role and responsibilities of a high-ranked shinigami, while the others had a few minor problems of their own.

Ok, so even Yama-ji would have to work extra hard to sell this to the other captains, and he was sure the court of remaining pure souls would just _love_ this.

His unusually sarcastic thoughts were interrupted by the flash-entrance of his lieutenant.

"Sir, 10ths fuku-taicho is here to see you as requested."

The fact of the matter was; Aizen was dead, his subordinates captured/dead as well, and the remaining Arrancar were on the run. The Visored had decided to stay in the real world, Urahara, Tessai and Yoruichi were not officially part of Soul Society and had no intentions of coming back, what limited contact he had with Nishi Icasoruck, if that was his name anymore, was like a one-way street, Yama-ji was old, and couldn't be bothered sifting through a pile of non-eligible candidates whom were suggested by the badly imitated writing of Hitsugaya-taicho, all being close friends to his lieutenant. And he really needed to relieve some stress.

"Send her in."

* * *

The grey-haired lieutenant left the office of his recognisable captain, sent his fellow shinigami in, and started to wonder if there was some new kind of fashion in Chappy slippers.

* * *

That's it for now. Expect possible delays, because my HSC comes first (this is a close second!).

Next chapter: either 'The Turmoil of Kuchiki Byakuya' (already written on paper) or 'Sweet Strawberry' (more of a drabble than anything).

Want to tell me which you would prefer first? Like where the story is heading? Want to request another pairing for me to feature in chapter form? Or just hate what I'm doing, and want to tell me what I'm doing wrong? Review. I swear on the power of the Russian Vodka that I will read and listen.


	6. Not Himself Laterly

I just noticed something. Back in the chapter with Rukias' bad dreams, I said "The keen cat eyes picked up on Ichigos' sombre tone". I mean his sad expression, but I got a bit muddled up. Sorry about that.

Anyway. So, the bar tender says, "Why the long face?" and the horse says... Wait, where was I? Oh right, the story.

This one took a while, because I had a shorter form on paper, but I ended up making it _way_ long because I thought it was a bit too succinct. And more space = more funnies!

Here we go. This one is titled 'Not Himself Lately'. For a reason. Bon ape- Kubo - Tite.

* * *

Midday sunlight shone into the assembly hall from a solitary source. It illuminated the Captain-Commanders form; wrinkles, greyish-white hair and scars were a theme in the visage of the most powerful shinigami of all time.

Light spilled onto the captains present. There were three gaps left in their ranks, which had been purposefully left, this time, because today, they would discuss filling those gaps.

Like statues they all stood, not moving, even for the slight breeze that accompanied the light. It drifted around the room, respectfully not touching the inhabitants, but blowing on the scroll of paper that hung off a wall, not unnoticed, by the door.

It had been picking the curiosity of all the captains, but most of all Hitsugaya, who would admit that he had a tendency for curiosity, having a keen mind and sharp investigative skills (he would not admit to being an inquisitive child, but seeing as how both possibilities could be true, and saying one could end up with a certain Shiro holding his sword to your neck, let's stick with the first). He had found himself wanting to investigate the parchment further, but he knew that the old man would ask each of the captains to read off of it when the time called for it.

He had also picked up on the slight swaying of Shunsui, probably due to a great bender, the straighter way that Soi Fon stood, which could mean that Yoruichi was back in town again, and the blush on Unohanas' cheeks, which were receiving death-stares from Kenpachi. To the final observation, he could make no inferences. Unbeknownst to him, several days earlier, Unohana had had a chance to test her new 'overpowered taser'. Kenpachi still couldn't get his bells back on.

When Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryūsai eventually spoke, it was always with an air of seriousness and succinct detail. Today was no exception, but for the -

"As you know, for the past year, there have been three positions left unfilled in our ranks. The duties that were abandoned have been partially fulfilled by lieutenants. However, tradition requires a Captain to take charge of each division."

"Due to this, we thought it best to give a special squad leader, the late-Captain Amagai, a chance. He passed the Captains Exam and took command of the 3rd division. However, his motives were ulterior, and he is no longer a captain." The old man hesitated for barely noticeable second, which a stimulus-deprived-and-rather-bored Hitsugaya picked up on. Was it that the most senior man in the Seireitei had become attached to Captain Cheap-Date, or did he just feel guilty for having brought about his death?

One moment of filler-arc flashbacks later, Yama-ji continued. "Therefore, we must choose the next three captains based on aptitude, intellect, and _loyalty._ To this extent, I have compiled a list of _nominees._ This is why I have brought you here today." He raises a hand, indicating the paper on the far wall.

Each captain had the foresight to see this coming; it had just been a matter of when, and who. The shortest 'man' present found himself wondering why Yamamoto had chosen now. _And who makes up the list? There hasn't been too many mentionable Shinigami worth a promotion that I've heard about, but the list seems short._

The 'inquiring mind' was but a step ahead of Yama-ji.

"Now that the situation with Aizen has come to a rather anti-climactic end, (_was there disappointment in those words?_)it is more acceptable to advance individuals that are... that are..." the old man stopped.

Hitsugaya held his breath. This captains meeting was turning out to be rather interesting, but the commander had stopped in the middle of what seemed to be pretty important. Was this a moment of senility? Or were there not many favourable words for what he wanted to say?

As Ukitake was about to try and wake up his mentor, Yama-ji finally continued; "individuals who are not as experienced in the workings of the Gotei 13 as we would like them to be. Such knowledge can be taught."

Yamamoto paused slightly again. _This will be good, _Hitsugaya thought. _Or, at least amusing._

"Furthermore, for lack of proper captain level shinigami, most of the names on the list have... potential."

There was a respectful tension held between the other shinigami. They knew all what would be coming; _Great. We are going to be picking up slack for the new guys. At least they should be able to hold their own in combat._

Yamamoto was not finished; "This said, many of these candidates don't have bankai, as such."

The respectful tension turned to intrigued thought. Every mind was already trying to work out who was on the list in advance, so they knew who they would be 'working' with, in a loose sense of the word.

But there was more, and to prepare himself, the head captain took a deep breath. "Also, if the individual shows their abilities to be astounding, or powerful, or potentially both, then their background is of little consequence. This means that they do not have to be shinigami to be selected."

The intrigued thought turned to stunned silence. Hitsugaya knew that if they were to quickly refill their ranks, the shinigami chosen would be a bit rough around the edges, but _others..._ would their squad even accept them? He started to wonder how Genryūsai had been feeling recently, because it was not in the old man's nature to divert from the course of tradition.

"This may seem like a rash move," Yama-ji explains, "but this special election to captain is not altogether quick or permanent. What I propose is a traineeship, of sorts. Who we choose today will be put through rigorous training sessions, leadership seminars and thorough theory classes. If they do not pass through these, or, after a trail period, if they are deemed 'illegible', then we simple replace them with another. This may continue until the usual methods are applicable again."

_That explains it, _thinks Hitsugaya. _He wants to go on like nothing ever happened, but he knows that if you want to stitch up jeans, sometimes patchwork is required. So we are going to be trying to make the 'patches' blend in with the ensemble, and if we don't like it, we get some new denim that matches better._

_Damn, I've been spending too time around those damn girls-_

"If there are any objections, please say so now."

The challenge in the tone of voice was met with more silence. Toushiro knew that each of the captains had respect for Genryusai in some way or another. He also knew that Yama-ji would never do anything to harm Soul Society, and a lot of careful deliberation had been put into whatever this was. This is why not a single captain said a word. Also, because he was making sense with his suggestions.

"If there are no objections," the old man said in relieved triumph, but not showing it, "then can the Head of Security please read from the list on the far wall."

Everyone held their breath as Soi Fon walked to the back of the room to read the list. She was known for having her ear to the ground for any dangers that may present themselves. They all knew her job was to read the list, and try to find any names that were a risk; namely, anyone that had committed some sort of crime, anyone she had a bounty on, or anyone that she felt was not proper captain material. But, hey, Kenpachi had made captain.

Reading through the excellent calligraphy, she notes mainly those shinigami that had made themselves memorable by serving in the Winter War. These would have been fresh in Genryūsai's mind, and rightfully so. Some of them had done great things during the war; they had faced their own ex-captain, they had killed Arrancar, they had invaded Heuco Mundo (although not in that order). Although, this one could be trouble... but what was the most courteous way of saying it, so that the General is not offended?

She turned around to face her commander; "Sir, are you certain about the Quincy? We exterminated his kind so that he was the last. I think, maybe, he would, well, hold a grudge, and a shinigami captain that hates Shinigami? I'm not sure this would work well for squad cohesiveness."

The polite way she stated the obvious was noted by Hitsugaya and Yamamoto. "I already know this. What you should remember is that every man can be persuaded. He just has to remember that we share a common goal."

Yamamoto continued, unexpectedly. "I'm confused, captain (this was a great surprise to many). Do you not have a problem with any of the others on this list?"

"No," she said simply. Sensing that everyone would like more information than just this, she added; "Three of these candidates have attacked Soul Society, in one way or another. But since this time, they have joined back up with us again. I would trust them as I trust Byakuya-taicho or Hitsugaya-taicho."

Nobody missed the crack she made at the Kuchiki and the young boy. They had caused considerable damage to the Seireitei themselves, at times when their alliance was at question. However, like water under a bridge, the events causing these changes of hearts were soon not even talked about. It was like they had never happened, and that time of their lives was not part of the grander story.

Satisfied, Soi Fon retook her place.

"Medical Chief of Staff, please step forth."

Unohana Retsu stepped out of line to proceed to the end of the hall. As she read the list, names of patients past began jumping out at her. She had treated most of the candidates at least once (and in Ikkaku's case, the admittance rate was a _bit_ higher). Shortly after reading the complete list, she spoke her mind.

"Genryūsai-domo, I feel that most of these applicants might be applicable for captaincy after a few years of hard training, but _really_..." They all knew what she had to say. A captains responsibilities are extremely dangerous at times, and nobody wants to put a medic to work if it is avoidable.

"I can see your concerns. Will they be able to protect their division? Maybe. But what we need now is organisation. Without the Traitors, there have been three missing links in the chain of command, and lieutenants aren't sufficient anymore to make up for the lack of the proper authority. You may not have noticed, but the divisions that the Traitors left suffer low morale, poor mobility and have a lower standing amongst the other squads. Without a captain to ask things of the other captains, a squads lieutenant can only do so much. A captain is not just another zanpakuto to their squad."

To this response, Unohana bowed her head, and stepped back in line.

"Could the keeper of historical records step forward?"

It was the Kuchiki lords turn, being next in line (in number, at least). As always, the man with the rectal-spinal implant walked over to the back of the room with all the dignity and grace under his command. Admittedly, there was a lot of it, but, as the noble bent down slightly and turned his back on his audience to read of the note, nobody really cared.

Almost immediately, he announced, keeping his back to the assembly, "Commander, allow me to shorten the list by one. I can see an undesirable name."

Yama-ji frowned. "Kuchiki-taicho, please remember that we are in debt to Mr Kurosaki, and that considering him for an honour of this kind, which he is, indeed, worthy of, would be killing two hollow with one Kido no. 36."

Shunsui, the only captain ballsy enough to correct the head captain, started, "Uh, I think you mean-

"I know exactly what I mean, Captain." This was the equivalent of 'Shut up, you fool' in Yama-ji speak.

"I think you will find the misunderstanding still stands, however" up spake Byakuya (running out of interesting ways to say 'said'). "I was speaking of my younger sister."

Varying levels of surprise could have recorded at this point, if Mayuri had brought his shock-analyser, and the pause that followed was deafening. No-one dare break the silence held between the two, who were very intimidating _on a good day_. The elder of the pair opened his eyes, expecting to be surveying the Kuchiki lords face. This was difficult, seeing as Byakuyas' head was still facing the wall, so that the back of his head was in the way. _The young whippersnapper is not facing me._ Yama-ji ignored the sign of disrespect, and chose to defend his position.

"Kuchiki Rukia deserves a seat, at least, and her abilities are developing past that of most lieutenants. On their own, even."

Byakuya made no visible move to turn around. Yamamoto continued.

"She has fully demonstrated her ability to defend herself. She is also loyal to Soul Society and has ample organisational skill. You should know. You trained her thus."

There was still no response from the noble. Yamamoto tried pushing some different buttons.

"If veto-ing her candidacy is in the interest of protecting her, then it is unreasonable. She can protect herself. I will not forestall the progress of Soul Society so that she may be, by _your _definition, safe."

Nothing.

"Everything changes, Kuchiki. Given time, – and not much, at that – she will be capable of cleansing the strongest of hollow. She is no child, either. In fact, she looks very much like her sister."

More nothing (if that is possible).

"She is becoming a leader. Her division loves her, even though she brought about the death of their lieutenant. She has friends throughout your division. She is the only unseated shinigami to attend the Shinigami Womens' Society. She can rely on most of us for a quiet word, and our vice-captains for a drink. She has contacts in the human world that were able to rescue her from _us. Humans. And a __Quincy__._"

The silence was growing in tension.

"She is no ordinary shinigami. Any of the ryoka will agree. Especially the orange one."

At this, Hitsugaya felt the slightest release in reiatsu. Yama-ji must have felt it as well, because he decided to test the chink in his armour.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," said Yamamoto, using each syllable to its' fullest. "Yes, that was his name. She has shown some interest in that boy. She has been making many requests to be returned to the town she was assigned to. His town. And who better to protect her, tha-

"_**No"**_

In one of the most impressive flash-steps Hitsugaya had ever seen, Byakuya Kuchiki was in front of the Captain Commander, sword drawn and at the elders wrinkled throat, reiatsu blaring, nostrils flaring, eyebrows turning down the bridge of his nose. For the first time in a very long time, the 'stoic Kuchiki lord' was displaying anger, and pulling it off quite well.

(Unbeknownst to many, the 12th division has devised a method of deciphering the patterns of neurons firing across a living brain, and translating them into recognisable speech. In short, reading a person's mind. If it was in use on the occupants of the room, then this is what might have been observed.

Ukitake: _Oh, no, he's finally snapped!  
_Komamura: _Bloody hell, he's finally snapped!_  
Hitsugaya: _Oh, lord, he's snapped. I guess I better look surprised.  
_Kenpachi: _Hell yes! He's finally snapped!  
_Unohana: _Dang. I only just patch them all up._  
Soi Fon: _If he dies, with me being head of security, does that mean I won't get paid?  
_Mayuri: _Cost to hold a Captains meeting; 10,000 dollars an hour. Price of materials; $14.25. Look on the Captain-Commanders face; __Priceless.  
_Shunsui: ~_She wore an itty-bitty-teeny-weeny-yellow-polka-dot bikini, that she wore, for the first time, today~... I wonder what Nanao-chan would look like in a bikini? Why don't I ever get invited to the beach?...Wait. What the hell's going on?!_

These thoughts may well have been what each of the captains were thinking. However, the miraculous invention takes three hours and open brain surgery to set up, so no-one may ever know. The only reason I mentioned it was because I am being paid for advertising. Also, drink Pepsi.*)

The voice of the noble brought the captains out of their own heads. "Kurosaki inspires more trouble than he's worth. His very presence attracts Hollow faster than anything Kurotsuchi can invent."

"Well, actually-

"He would endanger her. A position would endanger her." Byakuya grip on the blade shifted dangerously. "_You _would endanger her."

Hitsugaya, along with the rest of the rooms' occupants, waited for the coup de grace, and took another look at the man who would dare kill the General. After Aizen, of course.

Not many could tell this, but the youngest pair of eyes noticed Byakuyas' frazzled hair, his baggy eyes, the badly-placed kenseikan, the thinner-than-normal appearance and the white, ghostly colour of his skin. He was not the image of health, and could possibly be mistaken for Ukitake, whose unhealthy visage had people placing bets and counting backwards.

However, it was apparent that the noble had enough vitality to commit something near regicide. Hitsugaya had heard how he would put his sister before all else, and if killing Yama-ji meant Rukias' safety, then the crazy bastard might just do it.

"I cannot allow this"

He drew his sword back at the elbow, keeping it pointed at the old mans throat. The arm sped forward, and time froze, as...

As...

As...

...as a single cherry blossom glided past the eye of the aggressor.

Byakuya stopped, not even millimetres between his bosses neck and cold, hard steel. The sharpness in the air in front of the blade was enough to draw a bead of blood from the elder.

For half a second, the noble looked for the origin of the leaf, and they found it, right in front of him, right behind the man he had resolved to kill, framed by the window. He flash-stepped to the window that held the vision of a Sakura, blossoming in spite of the winter, but was struggling to do so.

Everyone stood stock still, for fear of Senbonzakura, but more-so the wielder. This fear didn't stop them from all exhaling forcedly, and turning to gawk at him. He began to speak;

"I love this tree."

_Mad as a hatter, _was the collective consensus of thoughts going around the room. Kuchiki Byakuya had ruled over the Kuchiki clan for the better part of a century, had been captain of the 6th for about half of that, had commanded respect in almost anything he did, even asking for a bathroom break, and here he was, confessing his love for botany.

"A beautiful tree. In springtime, see how it blooms, so very vibrant. Graceful in the evening breeze, a truly impressive scene."

Some of the quicker captains caught onto the use of Tanka, but were all confused further by it. Byakuya returned to proper English (which they all talked fluently, but preferred Japanese subbing).

"It reminds me of another tree that I replanted in the Kuchiki grounds. How did it blossom and sparkle with the most divine petals. This other tree was with me..." and he paused, sighed, quietened his voice, so those listening had to listen harder, and continued; "for nearly five years. However, in the fifth year... she didn't make it."

Only the cat hiding under the window heard him whisper, "I still miss you", but it was Hitsugaya and Soi Fon who saw the tears. They still couldn't believe it.

Wiping away just a few of the tears he had been holding back for decades, he raised his zanpakuto, and each of the captains braced themselves for the release.

"This tree will make it through the winter. I will protect..."

As gently as the breeze, Senbonzakura scattered, blades attacking the weeds that been undisturbed for centuries, due to rather inept and lazy gardeners.

"...I will care for it..."

The blades pruned the branches that were overgrown or dead, giving the tree a somewhat fresher look.

"...and it will thrive again."

The blades stopped, shined for a moment, spinning without direction, and without warning, _they encircled the tree. _For a moment, it was lost to the mass of deadly weapons. And then, in a moment of release...

The captains stood, or sat, in awe. Toushiro had expected Senbonzakura to destroy the much-loved tree. He had seen the technique (usually a Bankai ordeal) enough to have expectations of ashes and sawdust. Usually the petals would create a spinning sphere of death, where there was no escape. They would start to enclose upon the target on Byakuyas' command. Finally, the target... disappears.

Step 1: Check.  
Step 2: Check.  
Step 3: Computer says "no".

_The unused petals slowly cleared, and what was left was not part of a landscape, but a dreamscape; each perfectly cut branch was transformed, blooming with a thousand glowing petals. It was as if winter had passed, and spring was making up for lost time._

_But this was no ordinary Sakura. As each false-petal swayed in the gentle breeze, it shone with the inner light of the hilts' holder, the purest white, with a tint of pink. The entire scene was encased in a background of royal blue reiatsu._

_And it shone. And it was majestic. And it was, indeed, the most beautiful scene anyone could imagine. The keenest mind, the most deadly assassin, even the most battle-hardened warrior would have to admit that._

Hitsugaya let out a "Wow."

Soi Fon said "Yeah."

Shunsui added "Cool."

They were all very appropriate responses.

Yumichika had been walking past, and had fainted. This was also a very appropriate response.

Byakuya spoke again, but what he said went mostly unheard. No-one was listening.

"No-one shall cause her pain ever again. Not Aizen, not Urahara, not Kurosaki, _not anyone._"

The vision of a dream dissipated, and Senbonzakura disengaged, and Byakuya disappeared, and the captains stood disoriented. One by one, they came back to reality, with some interesting questions as to what had just happened. As soon as they started, Yamamoto knew he had no hope of recovering the meeting.

"What just happened?"

"I don't know. Where'd he go?"

"Who knows?"

"Who cares?"

"What was that about Aizen?"

"Why are there twigs in my pony tail?"

"Who else was on the list?"

"Hold on. Did you notice he didn't use bankai for that?"

"That's not really important. What we should be doing is figuring out –

"Who thinks Nanao looks cute in a bikini?"

"I do."

"I do."

"I do...what?"

"What does that matter at the moment, Shunsui?"

"Well, I thought the mood could use some lightening."

"Does anyone here have Byakuyas' phone number?"

"Why, did you want to go and stop him from doing something stupid?"

"No, I... well, um... I thought I could... yes, I wanted to stop him from doing something stupid. That's me, professional Head of Security. Definitely not for personally reasons."

"Soi Fon, you're a sucky liar."

"Come on, guys. The 6th division captain has just had a mid-afterlife crisis, we should be –

"Who wants tea and biscuits?"

The last question came from the 1sts' lieutenant, obviously oblivious to the stunning behaviour of the Kuchiki captain, and the rather stunned captains left in the nobles' wake, who came in on cue, at the end of the meeting, with a pot and cups.

Hitsugaya, like a brittle rubber band, whose usual mental-elasticity had snapped from the release of tension of the room, and the stress of trying to answer too many questions at once, couldn't take it any more.

"Tea? _Tea?! _Who cares about your tea?!"

"Well, actually –

"Shut it, dog-boy! Shouldn't we be figuring out _What The Hell Just Happened?! _Why did Byakuya just go mental as anything?! What is he going to do to protect his sister?! What can we do to minimise damage to Seireitei?! Who else was on the list?! And most importantly..."

At this point, one of the first questions that Hitsugaya had when he walked into the room cam back to him. The reason he couldn't ask to begin with his respect for the man, but at this point, he no longer cared.

"WHY THE HELL IS YAMAMOTO WEARING RABBIT SHOES?!"

Every set of eyes in the room, including Yamamotos' pair, focused on the shoes Hitsugaya was pointing at, the shoes protruding from the ends of the traditional garb of the general. The shoes with the long, fluffy ears.

_Oh, bugger._

"Meeting is adjourned."

* * *

A/N: I only said the pepsi thing because, well, Coke doesn't need the help.

For those who thought this chapter was madness, well, it kinda was. I felt like just writing whatever came to mind, and it just kept coming. That's what this particular fanfic is based on, though, so I felt good about it. The whole Byakuya thing will be explained in a couple of chapters, so hang around. The point is, for this particular piece of fiction, it is suppose to be out of character, to later be in character.

I like to think of Hitsugaya as a kid trying to be an adult, and pulling it off quite well, but really, he is still just a kid. Proof: TEH NAPPING. Later, I might include a Hitsu-someone feature to tie up a few more pairings, but it is not important right now.

BTW: Madness? Nay. This... Is ...SEIREITEI!!! (Oh, my god, did you really just say that? Why couldn't I have been someone else's inner monologue?)

Next up: 'Sweet Strawberry'. Guess who this one is about? Plus: TWIST ENDING!


End file.
